I Hate You John Lennon
by SabrinaMayyLouie
Summary: AnnaBelle had to deal with John every art class while he criticized her work. John had to deal with AnnaBelle throwing comebacks at him faster than he could throw one back. If these two hated each other so much, why were they voted cutest couple in the class yearbook? -Chapter 3 is up!-
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

"Your a netwit, John." I growled at the boy next to me, "You couldn't paint that flower any worse, could you?" John laughed at this.

"Love, you wouldn't know how to paint one either. I mean, look at that! It looks like an abstract drawing of your head, or is that a donkey? I couldn't tell the difference Love, terribly sorry." John replied, a smirk on his face.

"I hate you John Lennon."

"Touche AnnaBelle Morrison, Touche, Love."

I rolled my eyes at this pathetic excuse for a high school student. The last bell of the day rang out. grateful, I capped all my paints, ignoring any snotty remarks from John. I picked up my books and slipped on my jacket. I released myself from the classroom where I saw my Friends Cynthia Prissa, Anthony Green and Maria Gull.

"AnnaBelle! Want to come down to the Bistro with us for some fish and chips?" Maria called cheerfully. I smiled at Maria. She was so beautiful and sweet. A honers student; hoping to follow in her mothers footsteps and be a nurse. With summer blonde hair and spring green eyes. Dressing in the most fab skirts and suddle shoes.

"That's be gear. Let me put my books away." I made my way down the hallway away from them to put my books in my cubby. I shoved them into the small 12 inch cubby and met up with my friends. We smiled and chatted about today's happenings. Apparently Amy Roedbeck flirted with a greaser named Tony and her boyfriend found out. Yikes! That couldn't have ended well.

We all piled in Anthony's cadallic and raced off to the bistro a few miles from school, dancing to Elvis Presley and Chuck Berry on the car ride there.

..

The bistro was jammed with loud music from the Jukebox and teens chatting. Girls in their poodle skirts sad around the bar drinking their milkshakes laughing. A few boys gawked at them from behind their shades. A few greasers sat in the back, sharpening their pocket knifes, looking to pick a fight.

"Look," Maria smiled, "There's a few empty seats over at the bar." Maria rushed over there ad we followed, the music making it hard to think.

We took our seats and began talking. Someone sat down next to me. So, I turned to greet them

"Hullo, Love!" John smiled at me. _God damn!_ I thought angrily. His attire had changed, his tie done loose, and his jacket missing. Just wearing a pair of black slacks, suit suddle shoes, white dress shirts, and black suspenders. He grinned broadly at me and I scowled.

"What do you want, Lennon?" I growled, "Stalking me now?"

"Aw, Love. Don't be like that." John Smiled at me, "Here let me buy you a malt, What kind would you like?" John cocked his head and smiled. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Fuck off John." I growled at him.

"Aw, you'd like that wouldn't you." John smirked. I rolled my eyes at him. He looked away, down at the waitress on skates. "Ey, Miss! Bring us two Strawberry malts would ya.?" He called.

_Oh gawd. _I thought embarrassed. I went back to my friends, and listened to their conversations.

After a few minutes, I felt John poke me in the back. "Love, turn around." He laughed.

I turned, and he had two malts in front of him. "I told you I'd get you one. Didn't I.?" John smiled sweetly. I rolled my eyes, Picked up the malt, and stood up.

"John." I smiled, a fake sweet voice on my lips.

"What, Love?" John smiled at me.

"I hate you." I said, and I dumped the malt on his head. It dripped down his face, down his hair, onto his clothes. Then, I stomped out of the bistro.

* * *

_Hey Guys! Its Sabrina and I'm back with a Brand New Beatles Story! :D_

_So, i hope you guys like this one. I'll try to update everyweek/Weekend.! Thanks for all the love on my other stories! Love, Sabrina.3  
_

_Review!  
_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

Sure, I'll admit. That wasn't the nicest thing I've done. Nor is it one of the brightest. But, who said I was smart, or nice for that matter. It doesn't matter because I'm not.

I walked down the sidewalk, my arms crossed. I felt no remorse for John. I hated him with every single part of me. I walked down the strip with little corner shops. I looked in the windows quietly.

Okay, now I'm starting to feel bad. Maybe I over reacted. But did I? All he did was buy me a malt, John was such a arse half the time; I could never tell when he was joking with me or just being mean. So, this time was this a genuine nice gesture into friendship. Or, is this where John laughs at me for something - and was planning on throwing the malt on me instead. I sighed, and sat down on a metal bench, running my fingers over the stamping on the middle bar.

_"John, If you like her.. Why don't you tell her?" _A voice said. I stood up, Insistently recognizing the voice as Pete Shottons.

_"I can't Pete." _John's voice replied troubled, _"I've gotten it stuck through her head since 3rd grade when I had me crush on her. We are in a relationship full of fuckin' hate. This malt incident just made it worse." _

Wait! What?! I screamed inside my head. I stood up, and ran around the corner to the ally. I stood with my back against the wall, listterly invisible from any outstanding source.

_"But John, Why won't she believe you?" _Petes Voice said, _"If you tell her - what would you think she's say?"_

_"She'd probably drop another malt on my head." _John laughed, his soft husky laughter only a few chokes out. _"Look at this shirt, Mimi's gonna kill me."_

_"Maybe next time, don't try to buy a malt for someone who hates you." _Pete chuckled.

_"And not for one that has a boyfriend." _John sighed sadly.

They walked past the ally as their subject changed to what Mimi was going to say about Johns shirt.

My brain was confused. Well, not only my brain - but everything. John... John liked me? John and I hated each other since 3rd grade though! We.. we went to the same school. He poured paint in my hair! And he put glue in my cupcake he made me for my birthday.!

"John likes me?" I squeaked, whispering. I ran from the ally back to the Bistro. Safe now that John wasn't there. I busted into the doors, my breath coming out in short bursts as the Bistro pounded with music. I found Anthony, Cynthia and Maria. Who were still at their places at the bar. They were used to my sudden bursts of anger like that - expessly to John. John. The John that likes me. Ugh!

Will I ever think of him the same again!?

I walked over to them, plastered the biggest smile on my face and said, "Hey guys!" They turned and looked at me, half confused.

"Did you run into someone you liked on our way back? You seemed pretty angry when you left." Maria said to me, her voice full of happiness and concern.

"Something like that." I smiled at her, "So, did you guys order?"

"Yes, we did." Cynthia replied for Maria. "We ordered you a basket of fish and chips and a coke." Cynthia had a warm smile on her face as she looked at Anthony.

"And it's on me." Anthony smiled at me. I nodded to thank them and we all sat and ate.

..

The next morning when I woke up for school - I woke up an hour and a half early. School starts at 8:30, and It was 5:00. I searched in my closet for the best posh wear I owned. I pulled out exactly what I was looking for. My best Sleeve red dress. A black sash running around the waist of it. Paired with my bed shiny white heels and a black cardigan.

I got in the shower, taking time to wash my hair and my body. shaving the last bit of hair from my legs. I dried my hair with my blow dryer - and after an hour, it was finally dry. I pulled it into a high ponytail, letting my bangs hanging over my forehead. I pulled on my underclothes, then my dress - making sure none of it was wrinkled. Then, I pulled on my white heels - and dipped on some pink eyeshadow. I smiled in the mirror at my appearance. Sure, it was probably something I wouldn't wear outside of church, even though I came from a wealthy family. I'm just not one of those people to flaunt my money, you know?

I walked to my bedroom, grabbed my books from homework - and walked out.

Hurriedly, I ate my breakfast - shoving down my face, probably not like my mother would want me to eat it.

Then, I speed walked outside and down the few blocks to school.

I was at school in 10 minutes flat. I walked into the large doors surrounding the brick buildings and ran to the second floor to my locker.

I put my books in my cubby, and looked for John. He was usually down this hallway, he had a crush on me? He can have a crush on me. I'm just going to make him want me so badly he can't stand it.

_"Then Mimi yells at me for wearing me shoes on the carpet in the sitting room, posh lady let me tell you son." _Johns loud voice echoed down the hallway. I smirked and looked the way the stairwell was.

He appeared, wearing his usual giddy up for school. His suit jacket, black slacks, a neatly done tie, suit shoes, and his white button up done cleanly.

"Hi, John." I smiled at him. When he saw me, his jaw dropped. Just like I wanted it. He eyed me up and down a few times, then retained himself.

"What'd ya do with yourself? Posh mum finally got to ya then, AnnaBelle, Love?" John laughed a hearty laugh, "You look hideous, love."

My smile vanished, I tried so hard to impress him , and it just goes down in flames. I stomped away angrily. And ran into the bathroom and locked the door and cried.

Why am I even crying? I hate John Lennon! I hate him with every part of me! Why would I try to impress him anyways? I should've known he would have done this! I should've have expected anything from him.

Tears ran freely down my face as I locked the door and slid against the wall. Why did he have to do this to me?

The bell rang, and the school went silent as doors started to slam shut. Even after the shut, I stayed in the bathroom, crying.

After what seemed hours, was more like ten minutes, there was a knock on the door.

"There's someone in here!" I yelled annoyed.

"Love, I didn't mean what I said." A voice said, "You look lovely."

"I hate you John Lennon." I whispered quietly.

"What was that?" Johns voice said to me, "I'm sure you just said you hated me."

"Because I do." I replied. John laughed at that.

"You really do look lovely, love. Don't take anything I say to mind, now. Yeah?" John smiled, "Now come on out, your gonna miss out on the fun of Romeo and Juliet. Come out." I stood up slowly, looked in the mirror. wiped the tears off my face and sighed.

I opened the door and stuck my head out.

"Aw, I made you cry?" John asked, a frown on his lips. "Don't cry cause of me."

"Get out of here, John." I smiled at him, "I hate you, remember?"

"Well," John began, "I'm not gonna leave you if I made ya cry."

"You didn't make me cry." I replied.

"Okay." John rolled his eyes at me and sighed. "I'm gonna go to English without you. Don't need people thinkin' different things." I laughed at that.

"Okay John."


	3. Chapter 3

_First of all, before I ever start this chapter, I'd like to say thank you to all the lovely reviews! these nice reviews from Beatle fans make me want to keep writing everyday! :D_

_Second of all, CassieMaina. shut the heck up! Because I don't care if you think my character is a mary sue. And, Describing John, I can describe him however I want. And, obviously your stuipd - In the 50's it was required to be dressed up for school. Girls nearly always wore their dresses/skirts, Boys wore ties. So, before you go and critize my work - please, do some research before you look stupid! Thanks! And Poodle Skirts in the sixties! AHAHHAHA. Okay. Teddy boys and greasers are totally different. __**Teddy boys**__::: Teddy Boy clothing included drape jackets, usually in dark shades, sometimes with a velvet trim collar and pocket flaps, and high-waist "drainpipe" trousers, often exposing the socks. The outfit also included a high-necked loose-collared white shirt (known as a Mr. B. collar because it was often worn by jazz musician Billy Eckstine); a narrow "Slim Jim" tie or western "Maverick" tie, and a brocade waistcoat. The clothes were mostly tailor-made at great expense, and paid for through weekly installments. and __**Greasers**__: Clothing items usually worn by greasers included: White or black T-shirts (often with the sleeves rolled up); white A-shirts (as outerwear); ringer T-shirts, Italian knit shirts; Daddy-O-style shirts; black, blue or khaki work jackets, black or brown trench coats, Levi denim jackets; leather jackets; blue or black Levi's 501 jeans (with rolled-up cuffs anywhere from one to four inches); and baggy cotton twill work trousers. _

_YES, IN THE BISTRO THERE WERE GREASERS, NOT TEDDY BOYS. GOODBYE CASSIEMANIA AND STAY OFF MY STORY._

Chapter 3.

I walked into art, my heart fluttering. Sure, today had started out remotely bad. But, how? It's turned out to be good. John giving me heartily smiles through the day and commenting how I looked lovely. It made me feel better.

The art room was always like a second home to me. The smell of fresh paints and canvases always made me feel like I was in a art exhibit. Something I would love to be at, if only Liverpool had one!

I sat my book down on the table and walked over to the painting canvas' that were put up to dry yesterday. Mine was the third one down, and a painting of a field of pink roses. I had put a lot of work into it, and after almost 7 hours of staggered work, I finished it.

I pulled the painting out of the rack, and my face fell.

Black paint had been poured over it, and X's were all over the flowers. My heart fell, tears welled in my eyes. Who would be so cruel, that would destroy something I worked hours on? Tears fell down the corner of my eyes, and I sniffled trying to keep it in.

But I couldn't. This painting was suppose to be a gift, but now, It's ruined. I stared at it. What else was I suppose to do?

"She wanted in your pants, John. Admit it!" Someones voice yelled while walking into the Art room. It was slowly filling up with kids.

"What can I say? I'm a ladies man." Johns voice laughed.

John. He did this. He had to! He was the only person in this class who hated me.

I through the painting down and turned to John, who was now walking in the door with his friends. His eyes looked at me.

He smiled and said, "Good afternoon, Annabelle love." He said.

"I hate you John." I cried. "I hate you! I hope you get hit by a bus! I hate you!" Everybody in the room went silent and stared at me. They knew I hated John. But, they have never heard me scream like this. They dropped whatever they were doing for art, including the teacher, and looked at me. "Why would you do this to my painting!? What did I do to you! Why would you ruin it!"

John stared at me, along with the rest of the class, "I didn't ruin your painting, love." John nearly whispered. I shook my head and picked it up and threw it at him.

"look what you did!" I yelled as it hit the table and tumbled to the floor in front of him. "You drew all over it! You ruined it! I hope your happy with yourself doodling your pathetic excuse for a drawing all over my painting and ruining it!" I cried. I crossed my arms and John once again shook his head.

"But, I didn't do it." John stated again, "I swear. I wouldn't stoop so low into ruin your grade."

"I hate you John!" I yelled running towards the door. I ran down the stairs, tears running down my face freely and I didn't care who saw it.

I tried to impress him. I tried to get him to like me so I could ruin him. Instead, it backfired. he ruined me. Why does he have to ruin everything? It was pathetic.

I ran outside, into the cold November air. The wind blowing and snow coming down in soft puffs. I sat at the steps, and put my head in my hands.

Why? I didn't know why. Why did John have to ruin my painting? Why. It was such a stupid decision.

I felt a coat being draped over my shoulders, and I looked up to see John. His jacket missing, around my shoulders.

"What?" I hissed sourly.

John didn't reply, Just sat down and pulled out a cigarette. He lite it up, and began to smoke. Which is gross, he just made my hatred for him become more harder.

"What?" I hissed again.

"Why'd you blame me?" John asked after exhaling smoke out of his mouth. I glared at him.

"Because you did it." I replied.

"Oh, Come on Annabelle!" John growled turning to me. "I wouldn't go as low as to destroy your painting. I'm not that mean."

"I don't believe you." I replied quietly.

"Well why not?" John cried to me, putting his hands on my shoulders, "No matter what happens and now cruel of a comeback you make doesn't mean I'll be so a twig to do that to you!" I shrugged in reply, avoiding his eyes. he gave up, shrugged and shook his head. "Well, I'm sorry then, if you think I did it."

"Fine." I replied quietly. John sat beside me, smoking his cigarette.

"I don't know why you don't believe me." HE said after a moment.

"Because we hate each other." I replied. John didn't reply. But, he stood up. Through the cigarette on the ground - stomped on it. Then looked at me.

"Maybe the whole time only one of hated the other." John said.

Leaving me astonished, he walked down the sidewalk, and disappeared out the gate.


End file.
